A Faerie's Secret (Creepy Hollow Book 4) (21 page)

Water, sparkling as if every drop contains a different colored gem, runs in tiny streams from the center of the tunnel ceiling, down both sides, and meets in the center of the tunnel floor, where I assume it seeps into the ground.

“This definitely wasn’t here a minute ago,” Chase says.

“I’m aware of that. I was walking right next to you.” It’s beautiful, though, this rainbow colored water. I move a step or two closer to examine it. Perhaps if I splashed every color paint I have onto a canvas and left it in the rain, I’d achieve a similar effect. And for the twinkling sparkles where the water catches the light, I’d capture sunlight and sprinkle droplets of it onto the canvas. I’d need a charm to keep the paint and sunlight moving, to mimic the effect of—

“Are you kidding me?” Chase grabs my arm and pulls me back. “Don’t they teach you at guardian school not to go around touching random stuff? You could get yourself killed.”

I pull my arm out of his grasp. “I wasn’t going to touch it.” But I realize that my hand was raised, and it seems I was standing far closer to the water than I thought.

“Oh really?” he asks. “Is that what you told yourself before you picked up a stranger’s enchanted jewelry and
put it on
?”

I cross my arms, keeping my hands pinned beneath them so they can’t betray me again. “Yes, that was my mistake. But this …” I nod toward the water. “This is something else. Let’s keep going the other way.”

We turn back—and the hairpin bend is gone. Instead, the tunnel stretches straight ahead and the ground appears to be covered in moss.

“Now I’m freaked out,” I whisper.

Chase says nothing. He looks over his shoulder, then forward again. “Someone or something is messing with us.” He slips a hand inside his coat and produces a knife with a curved blade. “Whoever it is, they’d better hope we don’t run into them.”

Fear tingles at my fingertips. “I thought you said these tunnels were abandoned.”

“I did. It would appear I was wrong, though. This labyrinth is definitely in use again.”

“Fabulous.” I wrap my hand around the air and think of my dagger. It appears in my grasp a moment later. “Well, my friendly mentor keeps telling me to practice, and there’s no time like the present, right? So. Shall we brave the water or the moss?”

“Neither.” Chase raises his free hand, squeezes it into a fist, then opens it. A single flame burns above his palm. He leans forward and blows the flame toward the mossy side of the tunnel. Fire streaks through the air and lands on the moss. It ignites immediately, growing quickly into a blaze of light and heat. As the roaring of flames rises to a level that threatens to deafen us, Chase raises his arm as if to shield his face. The temperature drops immediately, as does the noise, and I know he’s placed a shield between us and the fire.

The inferno explodes, sending flames rolling toward us with alarming speed. I jump back with a yelp, but the flames slam against Chase’s invisible shield and go no further. Then, as if the explosion is happening in reverse, the flames are sucked backward in one quick rush. A moment later, they’re gone, leaving no evidence of moss, flames or smoke. The tunnel is completely bare.

Chase lowers his arm. “Okay. The way’s clear. Let’s go.”

I hurry after him, never letting go of my dagger or the strand of concentration that keeps my ball of light glowing above us. “That was an impressive fire.”

“Thank you. I’ve acquired a number of useful pyro spells over the years.”

“I see. Tattoo art must be a dangerous business.”

His eyes remain trained ahead, but I see the hint of a smile on his lips. I shake my head and smile to myself. I wonder if I’ll ever find out what he really does. Probably not, since I doubt I’ll see him again after we get out of here. Well, unless I get a tattoo. Or several. Mom would hate that. She wouldn’t be too keen on me spending time with someone like Chase, either. The thought makes me pleased. Or perhaps it’s the thought of not saying goodbye to Chase just yet.

“You’re doing it again,” he says without breaking his stride.

I raise my eyes and see the image that just played through my mind: the moment Chase shook my hand in his tattoo studio. That moment before I opened the door and found Saber there.

“Dammit,” I mutter as the image vanishes. The tunnel curves sharply to the left. We keep walking, and I smack my fist against my forehead a few times, as if that could help keep the projections inside. “Sorry.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did. I’m supposed to have this perfectly under control, and now I’m slipping up. That can’t ever happen at the Guild, which means I need to make sure it doesn’t happen in private either. I—” A vibration shudders through the ground and up into my feet. My first thought is that I’m about to be whisked into the past, but then the ground trembles again, and again, like the heavy footfalls of a giant. “What now?” I murmur.

“Now,” Chase says, turning to face the sound, “it’s time to play.”

The shuddering footsteps grow louder and closer. Part of me wants to run, but the rest of me feels the shot of anticipatory excitement that always brings life to my veins in the moments before I’m about to face a foe. I let go of my dagger and feel for my bow and arrow instead. Arrows first, then throwing stars, then blades. That’s my plan.

The footsteps reach the curve in the tunnel, my hands tense around my weapon, and into my line of vision steps an enormous beast. A ferocious bull-like head sits atop an upright muscled body. Its legs end in large hooves, and in one clawed hand it holds a double headed battle axe.

“Minotaur,” I whisper, half in horror and half in awe.

The minotaur opens his mouth to reveal sharpened teeth. He lets out a deep, gravelly laugh I swear I can feel vibrating in my own chest. His glowing eyes settle on Chase and, in earthy, rumbling tones, he says, “So. We meet again.”

Wait, what? Meet again?

I tear my eyes from the minotaur long enough to glance at Chase. For the first time since I met him, he looks afraid. Which means I should be afraid too. I train my eyes on the minotaur once more, aiming my arrow at his chest and swallowing against the dryness in my throat. Olive’s words are a whispered memory inside my head:
You’re going to wind up dead a whole lot sooner than I thought.

From the corner of my eye, I see Chase backing away. “What are you doing?” I whisper. “We can take this guy down. With my illusions and your strength, we can—”

“No,” he says. “We run.”

“But—”

“RUN!”

I release my weapons. Chase pushes me ahead of him. We hurtle along the tunnel with the minotaur’s angry cries and pounding footsteps following us. The tunnel splits and twists and straightens once more. My heart pumps adrenaline through my body. Fear lends me speed. We run and run and run and still the minotaur is behind us. We run and run and run—

And then we fall.

I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t see the abyss until we ran right off the edge. And now we’re falling, falling, falling, flailing limbs and screaming, darkness all around, and a pale blue light far below.

“Slow yourself!” Chase yells.

I know I’m supposed to be able to do that. Send magic out, push against the ground, slow myself to a halt. And I’m trying, but I can’t see the ground, and I can’t direct my magic because it’s whipped away as air streams past us, and all I know is that I’m
plummeting to my death
.

A hand catches hold of mine. Chase tugs me closer, pulling me into an embrace. We spin through the air together as a whirlwind surrounds us, slowing us. Slowing, slowing, slowing—

And then we strike the ground.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

The smell of sand and water fill my nose. A hard, uneven surface presses against my back. I’m aware that I’ve been asleep, but I don’t know for how long. A low groan escapes me as I stretch my limbs and try to remember where I was before I fell asleep.

The labyrinth.

The minotaur.

The fall.

Adrenaline shoots through me, aiding my efforts to pull myself to the surface of consciousness. I blink. After focusing in the dim blue light, my eyes manage to make out a rock wall somewhere above and behind me. With a great effort, I sit up. The action causes my head to throb, and I raise my hand to the source of the pain. I feel something wet on the back of my head. I pull my hands away and find a dark substance on my fingers. Blood. I feel my head again but can’t find an open wound. It’s obviously had time to heal since we hit the ground.

We.

Chase.

I look down and find him beside me. “Chase?” He doesn’t respond. I can barely see anything in the pale light, so I gather magic into a ball of warm light above my palm and leave it hovering near Chase. With tentative fingers, I examine him. An alarming amount of blood is pooled beneath his head, but when I tilt it to the side, I find only a surface wound. Thank goodness for our superior healing abilities. If we were lesser magical beings, that fall would definitely have ended us.

I rest my hand on his arm as I look around. We’re at the bottom of a gorge with rocky walls rising steeply around us. A few paces away, a shallow stream runs past us, tripping over and around sharp-edged rocks. The source of the pale light is somewhere on the right. I wonder if it’s a way out. If I follow the stream, I’ll find out, but I don’t want to leave Chase in his current state. Some creature might appear and drag him off to its lair.

I return my attention to him as his arm twitches. He breathes in deeply, then lets out a long groan.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“You landed on top of me,” he mumbles, his eyes still closed.

“I did?”

“I think I broke every bone in my body.”

“I think you may be exaggerating. But I am sorry. I wasn’t planning to land on you. And thank you. For slowing us both down.”

He peels one eyelid open. “Clearly not enough.”

“Well, enough to keep us from splattering across the rocks down here.”

He opens the other eyelid and frowns at me. “Not the nicest image, Calla.”

“Sorry.”

He moves as if to push himself up into a sitting position, then collapses back with a groan. “Damn ribs,” he says between shallow breaths. “Say what you will about exaggerations, but I’m pretty sure I fractured a few of those.”

“Well, keep still until they finish healing.” I return my hand to his arm so I can push him down if need be.

“How long have I been out for?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I just woke up. Hopefully not more than a few hours.” I remove my amber from my jacket and touch the screen, realizing belatedly that I’ve now put blood all over it. My heart sinks when I see the time. “Ugh. Twenty-two minutes to five. We’re not likely to be home in the next twenty-two minutes, are we?”

“Why, what happens at five o’clock? Got a hot date?”

“No, that’s when my mom gets home from work. The Guild would have notified her about sending all trainees home early today, so she’ll expect to see me there.”

“So tell her you’re with a friend. That isn’t a lie.”

“Oh, we’re friends now?”

“Yes. I think it’s a nicer label than ‘that thief who broke into my house.’”

“True.” I find my stylus, which is fortunately still intact, and write a message to my mother telling her I’m hanging out with a new friend and will be back later tonight. “Okay,” I say as I put the amber away. “That buys us another few hours. Now we’ve got until 11 pm. If I’m not home by then, my mother will go into full on panic mode at precisely one minute past eleven.”

Chase attempts to laugh, but his face crumples into a grimace of pain. When he’s recovered, he says, “You have a curfew?”

“Shut up. Of course I have a curfew. And I’m sure it wasn’t that long ago that you had a curfew too.”

He tilts his head away from me and closes his eyes. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

I watch his chest rising and falling as he breathes through his pain. “Do you need some healing magic?” I ask eventually.

He opens his eyes just a crack. “I thought you only lasted ten days at healer school.”

“Yes, but my guardian training this summer included a crash course in basic healing magic.”

His eyes slide shut. “Forgive me if I don’t find that entirely reassuring.”

“Why not? It’s simple stuff. Just transferring magic through your skin to aid your body’s own healing process.”

“Don’t worry about it. My body’s pretty good with healing itself. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. And if this is your way of asking if you can rip my shirt open and feel my chest, you’re not exactly being subtle about it.”

After a split second hesitation, I say, “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking. Can I start now?”

His eyes widen. His lips part, but no sound comes out.

“What?” I ask. “You can dish out comments designed to make others feel awkward, but you can’t take them?”

“I’m … just … surprised.”

“Because you were hoping I’d wind up spluttering defensively about how I have no interest in touching your bare chest?”